


Mage

by AudaciousAuthoress



Series: Legends of Tamriel [1]
Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Bethesda, College of Winterhold - Freeform, Forsworn, Gen, Winterhold
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-09
Updated: 2015-07-25
Packaged: 2018-03-17 04:22:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,796
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3515219
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AudaciousAuthoress/pseuds/AudaciousAuthoress
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Helvia Abgrall, a naïve and restless young Breton farm girl, leaves her comfortable and uneventful life at her family’s farmstead in High Rock in hopes of attending Skyrim’s College of Winterhold, as she longs to learn more about magic and how to use it. However, she's anything but prepared for the journey that lies ahead of her. She's inexperienced, clueless, nearly incapable of fending for herself, and her lack of common sense is almost unreal. However, she's determined to make a better life for herself than the one she had before, and her resolve alone might just be enough to help her reach her goal.</p><p>Well, that would be the case if things were going her way. There is another, stronger force that seeks to divert her path down an unpleasant venue. In order to keep herself from losing sight of her goals, she’ll have to stay ahead of a surprisingly powerful, on-the-rise faction in a foreign land - but she's not going to face it alone.</p><p>Her path will not be an easy one - at least, not the one that she’s hoping to take. She will have to make sacrifices and learn to adapt to unfavorable outcomes, and, in the end, she may learn that following her dreams might not be in her best interest.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Bad Time to Get Lost

" _Helvia, have you gone completely and entirely_ mad _?"_

 

_I sighed exasperatedly at my brother's outburst, though it wasn't like I wasn't expecting this sort of reaction from him. He'd always been stiflingly overprotective, but the current debate we were having was something I was determined to win, for once. I shot back irately, "Hardly. Is there anything wrong with wanting to lead a life other than a dull, monotonous existence helping you run this farm? I want to do more with my life than stay here in the same place for all of it; I would like to see what lays past this land and experience all the joys of traversing it, rather than turning grey here and looking back on the lack of things I wasn't able to do because of-"_

 

 _"_ _Listen, you wouldn't last a second out there, all alone. You wouldn't even make it to the High Rock-Skyrim border if you tried. It's dangerous out there, sister; if bandits don't get you first the wolves and bears will. You've never had a reason to learn how to protect yourself, and setting out with no means of self-defense and no survival skills is_ suicide.  _And you have a place to call home - and it's not like our family isn't well off enough either - why on Mundus would you want to throw your good fortune in life away for the sake of something as childish as_ adventure?"

 

" _You have such little faith in me that it's insulting. In case you've forgotten, I'm not as defenseless as you think I am. Maybe I've never used a sword or anything against another person, but I know a bit of magic-"_

 

" _You think those pretty parlor tricks Grandmother taught you can protect you?" Varnand laughed disbelievingly, causing me to bristle, "The best you could do at your level is stun someone; you're being unreasonable."_

 

" _Well, you can't stop interrupting me so I think my points might make more sense if you'd let me finish, Varnand!"_

 

" _I'm trying to keep you from going and doing something stupid. Why can't you see that, sister? There's no reason for you to leave. Why are you set on becoming something you aren't meant to be?"_

 

" _Do you even_ hear  _yourself right now? Since when did someone put you in control of every aspect of my life and allow you to tell me what I can and can't be?" I was nearly spitting flames at my brother's careless choice of words, my eyes narrowing angrily as I unconsciously took a step towards him, fists clenched, "I've wanted to leave this place for as long as I can remember. I know myself better than_ you  _do, and you need to accept that. I'm not exactly a child anymore either, you know. I'm old enough to make my own decisions, and this is something I've got to do - for myself. I won't go off unprepared, either, as we've still got Grandfather's sword around here somewhere, and I'm sure that I'll be able to figure out how to use it should the need arise."_

 

" _Grandfather's sword? That thing's older than our ages combined, and it's so dull it could barely cut through butter!" Varnand suddenly let out a defeated-sounding groan, running his hands through his sandy-colored hair as he continued in a gentler-sounding tone, " … I just wish you'd see reason. I don't want you to end up getting hurt… I couldn't live with myself if you did, especially after what happened to…_ him."

 

_The mention of Him changed the mood of the conversation instantly, and suddenly I started to feel more than a bit cold, in a numb sort of way._

 

" _We might be related, but I'm not the type of person to make the same mistakes he did. I'm not just setting out to become a wanderer, my sights are set on going to the Mages' College in Winterhold and I plan on getting there. He always had a knack for getting into trouble, even around here; it was obvious he was going to go and do something stupid when he went off on his own. I wish you could understand my reasons for wanting to leave, but it seems you're not willing to even give me a chance to explain. I know why you're concerned, and although I appreciate it, there's no way I'll let you keep me here against my will - even if I can't get your approval, I_ will  _leave at some point, whether it's today or next week."_

 

" _Helvia… Oh, very well. I know I very well can't change your mind at this point, and whatever I say or do won't have any effect on your decisions in the long run. Go on this fool's journey of yours, then, as nothing seems to be able to make you see reason."_

 

" _You- you're serious? You'll let me leave?" I exclaimed, somewhat surprised at how easily I'd managed to win my case. One thing that seemed to run in our family was extreme stubbornness, and arguments between family members could last_ hours,  _and didn't even necessarily even reach a resolution; they ceased simply because both of the verbal combatants were exhausted and might not even be quite sure what they'd been arguing about in the first place._

 

" _As you said, you're old enough to make your own decisions, so you can live with the consequences if things go sour on your journey. But I sincerely hope for your sake you'll have as grand of a time as you think you will…" My brother responded sincerely, adding in a brisk tone, "It'd be best if you gathered your things and set out now. When mother and father get back from the mill, they'll be less than pleased to know I've let you go off on your own, not to mention exactly what you're leaving for."_

 

" _I understand. It won't take me long to get my things," I replied, suddenly feeling a little cold inside. Was I really as prepared for leaving home as I thought I was?_

 

_Leaving the main room of the surprisingly spacious farmhouse I shared with my brother and parents, I made my way towards my room, already thinking about what I'd need to take with me. Provisions would be easy to obtain, and I'd managed to save up a considerable amount of money - at least, I viewed it as such - for the occasion, and knowing both of these things caused some of my earlier confidence to return, and I began to feel almost childishly excited as I dug through around in the chest at the foot of my bed._

 

_After a few minutes of tossing things aside haphazardly, I found the item I was looking for. I lifted the ancient-looking journal from its spot at the near bottom of the chest, inspecting it for a moment as my fingers traced the odd lock holding said book together. I'd never been able to find anything that could get it open, and it supposedly belonged to my great-grandmother, which made it all the more interesting to me, and I figured that if I took it along with me that I just might find someone who'd be able to figure the strange mechanism out. After wrapping it carefully in a blanket, I placed it in the bottom of the pack I'd be taking with me on my journey, and proceeded to place several of the other things I'd need on my trip in the bag on top of it, as well as a few things that weren't necessarily necessities - namely several books that I simply couldn't find it in me to part with - and finally, I was ready to set out._

 

_Well, almost._

 

 _At the_ very  _bottom of the same chest that I'd kept the journal in lay a set of old robes, foreign-looking in appearance, and, despite their age, somehow managed to retain their deep, vivid royal blue coloring, accented tastefully with hints of yellow-gold. I removed them from their place and laid it out on my bed, a smile creeping onto my face as I looked at the sophisticated-looking garment, an idea coming to my mind._

 

_I donned the aforementioned robes for the first time, leaving my plain and unremarkable dress behind folded neatly in their place in my chest, placing everything else back in it; I wasn't about to leave a mess behind me. Adjusting my satchel to a more comfortable position across my shoulder, I headed out the door, not looking back as I continued walking, my sights now set on the rolling hills that now lay before me, the slight breeze tousling my hair causing me to feel almost a bit giddy as I continued onwards._

 

_A new chapter of my life had just begun, and I intended to make it one worth remembering._

 

_~~~~~_

 

I awoke to the sound of birdsong, and let out a protesting groan as I opened my eyes, knowing full well that, since the sun was clearly in the process of rising, it was time to get a move on. Slowly pushing myself into a sitting position, I winced as a dull pain shot through my back; it seemed I hadn't chosen a particularly flat sleeping spot and now I'd be paying the price for that all day. "Gods, what I would give to find an inn somewhere around here… I've been out of touch with humanity for far too long," I complained aloud as I forced myself to get on my feet, getting my bearings.

 

As I rolled up my bedroll, I realized that my lingering exhaustion might have been caused by more than an uncomfortable sleeping place - perhaps it hadn't been one of my brightest ideas to try and finish  _A Minor Maze_  last night, seeing as it seemed to have taken more than a bit of time away from valuable shut-eye. _But it was definitely worth it, I_  thought to myself wholeheartedly, as it was one of the more interesting books I'd read in quite a while.

 

After packing up most of my things, I rummaged around in my pack to find something edible, and managed to find a whole loaf of bread and some goat cheese, as well as a few apples left from my packing just less than a week ago. "Should last me at least a few more days… I hope…" I muttered to myself, slightly alarmed by the fact that if I didn't reach civilization soon, I could very well starve to death. The map I'd been able to find to take on my journey was incredibly vague at best, as the only information the piece of paper had on it were the locations of all nine Holds, and though the terrain sketched on the map was relatively accurate, there were no markings for anything else, and for all I knew I could end up stumbling into a skeever den or worse due to the lack of general information.

 

Deciding to forego the bread and cheese this morning, I repacked everything but one of the apples, slinging my satchel over my shoulder as I started on my path towards the nearest Hold's capital - Markarth. I didn't know much about the place, but I figured it would be a good city to restock in and possibly get a much better map. I munched on the apple absently as I continued to walk, thinking about what I'd need to - and want to - do when I reached my destination. I reached the core of the fruit in seemingly no time at all and tossed the inedible remains of the fruit away haphazardly, suddenly wincing as a sharp pain in my left forearm flared up. Sighing as I slowly and carefully let said arm fall to my side, I was reminded of the wolf that had clamped onto my arm and had certainly left its mark on it just a few days ago, and I grimaced, remembering the agony of the experience and the less than pleasant sight. "Lucky I knew my little 'parlor tricks'," I muttered to myself with a half smirk on my face, as my ability to wield magic had definitely saved my life. The wolf had definitely gotten the worst end of the wounds, as biting me had proven to be a  _very_  fatal mistake for it.

 

As I continued my trek towards what I hoped would be Markarth, I started humming to entertain myself, recognizing the tune immediately with a slightly homesick feeling. Varnand was quite talented with a lute, and I recalled with a bit of bittersweetness how he often spent the quiet evenings at the farm playing it, and the particular song I'd been humming was one of his favorite pieces to play.  _You might miss it now, but there was nothing for you there, and you know that,_  I admonished myself abruptly, trying to kill my homesickness quickly before I went and did something stupid because of it,  _You've waited so long for this; you'll probably be able to go back and visit sometime, but now isn't that time._

 

Shaking my head to clear it of such negative thoughts, it was then I suddenly got the feeling that I wasn't alone on the path I was taking - though it certainly looked that way. "Oh come on, you're being ridiculously paranoid…" I remarked unconcernedly in an attempt to reassure myself that I was, in fact, alone at the moment. It hit me how ironic that thought was; I was eager to reach civilization yet didn't want to run into anyone while on the road.

 

And, as I was busy thinking about irony and other things of no real importance to the potentially dangerous situation I was in, I was anything but aware of the fact that there were a couple not so quiet noises coming from behind me.

 

Or the sound of metal clanking against metal in the undergrowth.

 

Really, it shouldn't have been much of a surprise when I heard someone say the dreaded words, "You picked a bad time, to get lost, friend."

 

_Oh, gods._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I've finally managed to put out a chapter for my first work of fanfiction on this site, after a considerable amount of editing and other means of improving the quality. I've had this story up and going for quite a while on another site, Wattpad, but I've just recently joined this site and am still getting used to the differences, so please bear with me if my formatting gets a bit messy at times or anything like that. Also, though I've heavily edited this chapter and am relatively happy with how it came out, the next six or so following chapters that I'll be posting in the near future aren't the best quality, and I apologize greatly for that - I've been writing for this story idea for over a year and my writing style's changed a lot since then, and it's difficult for me to post my older chapters on here as I know that they're far from ideal in quality.
> 
> But I'm hoping that this story will at least be an enjoyable read for some people, and that eventually I'll get around to editing all of my older chapters - though writing new chapters takes priority over that. And any constructive criticism is welcome, as long as it's polite and valid, or any comment at all that's not senseless or antagonistic.
> 
> Thanks again for bearing with me, and hope to see you next chapter!
> 
> -AA


	2. An Unexpected Intervention

_"You picked a bad time to get lost, friend."_

 

~~~~~~~~~~

 

_How on Mundus am I going to get myself out out of_ this _?_ I wondered more than a little frantically, nervously whirling around to face the person who'd spoken.

 

The individual I came face-to-face with was a muscular-looking male I assumed was of Nordic blood by his features, his arms crossed and his right hand nearly touching the hilt of his wicked-looking sword as he grinned nastily at me, a strange look in his eyes that made me feel even more terrified than I had before. He didn't look particularly well-off, either, as he was dressed in shoddy-looking iron armor that didn't look as if it fit him well, _at all_. It did nothing to make him look anything other than bulky and awkward, though, to be fair, it probably wouldn't have a flattering effect on _anyone_. Despite how cheap his clothing appeared, some armor was better than none - as I certainly wasn't wearing any, which put me at an even bigger disadvantage.

 

"Caia, Ottmar, what shall we _do_ with this little _trespasser_?" He called out, his voice dripping with sarcastic indecisiveness, and at his prompting two other brigands, a woman, also a Nord, who was sporting a rather gruesome-looking warpaint design on her face reminiscent of a skull, and a male Redguard who was twice the size of the man I assumed was their leader, and looked like he could crush boulders with his bare hands if he wished to, stepped out from the surrounding woodland, one on my left and one on my right.

 

“L-look, I’m terribly sorry for intruding; I didn’t realize that this was your property. I’m new to Skyrim-”

 

“Yeah, well, that’s more than obvious, Breton,” Caia smirked, crossing her arms as she added, “Otherwise you’d know better than to go traipsing around on our ground. The locals know crossing paths with us would be a death sentence.”

 

“Hm… well, since she’s clearly a foreigner, this grievance could be overlooked… _If_ you’ve got the coin... say, perhaps two hundred septims?” The leader of the trio bargained, coming a few steps closer as he added in a manner which was a bit too suggestive for my liking, “Or if you don’t, you _could_ atone for your ignorance by… _other_ means of payment.”

 

I couldn’t keep the look of disgust off of my face as I remarked heatedly, “I don’t happen to have enough gold to pay such a ‘toll’, and I don’t think I’ll be doing _any_ of those... _other_ things either.”

 

The suggestive grin on the Nord’s face quickly morphed into a displeased scowl, his hand now firmly grasping the hilt his sword as he replied in a dangerously soft tone, “Well, if you’re going to be _that_ way, it looks like you won’t get a choice in the matter.”

 

At those words, the Redguard finally spoke up, an almost reluctant look on his face as he remarked, “Boss, this is a waste of time. She doesn’t look the type to have anything remotely valuable on her-”

 

“Do I pay you for your opinions, Ottmar?” The Nord snapped, turning to give his underling an annoyed glare, “If _anyone_ comes onto _our_ land and offers us no payment, their life is as good as forfeit. No exceptions.”

 

With that statement, the bandit chief drew his rather plain but sharp-edged steel sword, and advanced towards me. He taunted me with a hint of warning in his voice, “Last chance to change your mind, Breton.”

 

My response was to draw my own weapon, though I cringed inwardly as I noticed how dull and ineffective Grandfather’s sword looked in comparison with the bandit’s. Sparks appeared in my free hand as I waited warily for the brigand to make his move, already certain I’d be on the defensive for most of this fight.

 

As I was expecting, the bandit chief made the first move, darting towards me with the intent to strike me in the side. I moved out of the way quickly and retaliated, storm magic flying from my outstretched palm as I brought my sword up into a defensive position. I hoped that my magic would at least be enough to throw him off a bit and give me a fighting chance. To my relief, they certainly seemed to be bothering him a bit, judging by his slightly pained expression as he composed himself for another strike.

 

I’d somehow managed to forget that the chief’s companions weren’t just going to stand by while we fought, and I was reminded of it the hard way when a searing hot pain exploded across the center of my back, and I could vaguely hear the sound of bones cracking as I fell forward, my sword slipping from my grasp as my vision flickered from the pain. I couldn’t keep myself from crying out upon my impact with the ground, the sound filled with agony and a hint of terror. I didn’t know what was going to happen to me now, but I knew it wasn’t going to end in my favor.

 

Stupid… I was so stupid… I admonished myself distantly, my vision beginning to grow black around the edges, _Varnand… He was right; I'm not cut out at_  all _for adventuring, it seems…_

 

“Nowhere to run now, _rabbit_ ,” the chief remarked in a jeering tone, a disgusting look on his face as he turned to the other two brigands, “Shall we finish her off, then? … Or do either of you perchance have any more _entertaining_ ideas?”

 

The Nordic woman spoke up immediately, and though I couldn’t see her face, her tone nauseated me as much as her words did as she said, “I can certainly think of a few things. For one, that pit wolf of ours seems to be getting a little thin… We shouldn’t waste such a _perfect_ opportunity to give it a nice treat. Two birds, one stone, and all that. ‘Least, that’s my thought on the matter.”

 

“And you, Ottmar? What say you on the matter, you overgrown milk-drinker?”

 

If the Redguard had taken offense at the chief’s rude remark, I couldn’t tell as he replied evenly, “If this _must_ be done, at least end it swiftly-”

 

“Of course. I should have expected such a lukewarm response from you,” the chief sighed, sounding disappointed, “You’re really no fun at all.”

 

“Well, we’d better decide what to do with her before-” Caia began in an imperious tone, but cut off suddenly, letting out a strangled groan as the two men let out exclamations of surprise. I heard something hit the ground not too far away from me, and, in the same instance this occurred, the chief seemed to be moving towards something, while Ottmar seemed to be moving the exact opposite direction of it.

 

“Who’s there? Show yourself!” I heard the chief call out menacingly, though I could hear a sliver of unease in his voice as he added, “When I find you, I’m gonna make you pay for what you did to Caia!”

 

“Alarik the Debaucher, is it? Hmph. I was expecting someone a bit more… intimidating, but with a title like _that_ , I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised,” an unfamiliar voice came from nearby where I was laying, the sound of it deep and somewhat reassuring, and he seemed more amused than anything by the man who had so easily brought me down.

 

The chief whirled around, his eyes widening as they fell on the newcomer. He now looked like I must have when I’d run into him and his troupe, taking a few steps back as he responded hurriedly, “Look, this is none of your business. I’d be more than happy to overlook that, ah, misunderstanding resulting in the death of one of my comrades; things happen-”

 

“That’s where you’re wrong, _scum_. Dealing with your kind _is_ my business. And I intend to finish what I’ve started.”

 

“I… Very well, then. If it’s a fight you want, it’s a fight you’ll get!” Alarik snarled, looking like a cornered dog as he lunged towards the mysterious vigilante, and I could only hope that this man was as well-prepared to fight the chief as he sounded.

 

I heard the sounds of metal against metal as two slightly blurred figures came into my immediate view a decent distance away from me, and it was then I noticed that the newcomer was dressed in well-fit, expensive-looking armor, theirs obviously of a much higher quality than the bandit chief’s. Blade shrieked against blade as the two locked swords, the sound made by it unpleasant and almost deafening as they clashed. However, Alarik’s steel blade swept downwards as he disengaged from the stranger, the force behind his move seeming to unbalance them somewhat. A bloodthirsty grin appeared on his face at this and he took another swing at them, crowing arrogantly, “ _You won’t leave here alive_!”

 

However, his opponent managed to block his wild swing easily, catching it on the edge of their own and, with an expert flick of their wrist, twisted it from the bandit’s grasp and sent it clattering to the ground. Alarik let out a gasp of alarm, and, through a haze, I watched him dive to retrieve it, but the stranger kicked it a good distance away, and knocked the chief to the ground with a well aimed blow to his side. Though his sword didn’t seem to have gone through the bandit’s armor, he stayed where he fell, a hand uselessly clutching his side as he stared up at his vanquisher, and seemed to be pleading, though I couldn’t make out his words. Without a word on their part, the stranger’s blade plunged down mercilessly, puncturing the man’s iron armor like a knife slicing through butter, effectively silencing him as it buried itself in his chest to the hilt.

 

The stranger then proceeded to remove the sword from the bandit’s corpse, the blade coming away stained a vivid red by Alarik’s blood. They bent down suddenly, probably with the intent of cleaning off their blade on the grass or something, but stopped, their attention now turned to me. It was then I realized that, while they didn’t seem like the kind of person who would kill an injured innocent, I didn’t _know_ that they wouldn’t, and I might perhaps be in even more trouble than before. As they began to walk towards me, I attempted to push myself up, but all I managed to do was hurt myself more, letting out a surprised cry as my arms gave out and I hit the ground, an excruciating amount of pain registering in my nerves as a half-conscious moan escaped my lips.

 

“...You all right?” I realized that the stranger was speaking to me, and I attempted to look up, my vision blurred and fading as I did so.

 

I couldn’t make out much about the individual at all, only dimly registering that they were completely armored and their face was not visible, and they were wearing a rich-looking, dark purple cloak of some sort.. I tried to shoot back a sarcastic reply - did I  _look_ like I was fine? -, but it was hard, _so hard_ , to think about anything than the all-encompassing anguish I was feeling.

 

The stranger seemed to sense that they’d asked a ridiculous question, and I could hear them curse softly as they continued, “Hold on; I’ll be right back.”

 

I stayed where I was, unable to move, as my vision grew even darker, and, despite the nagging thought that I ought to stay alert, I started to feel exhausted, and the idea of shutting my eyes for a few minutes seemed rather appealing. _After all, it’s not like I can do anything else right now, is it? Resting a bit couldn’t hurt…_

 

After a few seconds of silent consideration, I closed my eyes, sighing as I surrendered to the welcome embrace of painless oblivion.

 

~~~~~

 

The first thing I became aware of was that I was lying on something considerably softer than grass, which I found odd, considering that I’d just -

 

_Wait. Where am I?_  I wondered to myself wearily, forcing myself to open my eyes with some reluctance. I was greeted with an unobstructed view of the sky, which was cloudless and just beginning to be stained with hues of pink and orange, indicating that it was now evening and I’d probably been out for a while. I then attempted to sit up carefully, wincing in anticipation as I moved, but, to my surprise, I felt no pain, despite the fact that I’d been pretty badly wounded before I’d passed out. I was greeted by the sight of a makeshift camp of sorts, consisting of a couple of rather high-quality bedrolls - and I realized I was lying on one of the two, a small campfire that, despite its size, looked quite bright and had clearly been tended to recently, and a few bags left near the bedrolls, one of which I noticed was my own. Looking directly to my left, I saw a few empty, discarded pink-glazed clay containers, and managed to put two and two together on what had happened after I’d evidently passed out.

 

_I was really lucky, it seems,_ I thought to myself, more than a bit relieved to still be alive, though, as I looked around to try and find the literal ‘knight in shining armor’ who’d saved me from a less than pleasant fate, I didn’t see anyone in the immediate vicinity of the camp. However, I did happen to see an ornate winged helmet made of bright, flawless steel resting by the other bedroll in the small campsite, the immaculate metal glinting blindingly in spots where it caught the sunlight. Clearly, wherever they’d gone, they hadn’t gone very far away if they’d left their supplies and helmet behind - not to mention their horse, a beautiful palomino draft with rather high-quality tack, who was currently grazing peacefully nearby the campsite.

 

“Oh, you’re up. That’s good.”

 

I turned around immediately, startled, and I found myself staring at the individual who’d most likely just saved my life. He was tall - more than a head taller than I was, anyway - and built like a warrior, judging by the way he held himself and his very muscular physique. He was clad from his neck to his feet in a suit of steel plate armor, with curved, abstract designs etched into the breastplate, boots, and the vambraces, and belted at his side was a one-handed sword of Nordic design, one that was almost more ornate than his armor, as it had a sort of diamond lattice pattern on its bright steel blade and its pommel was curved and sharp-looking at the tip, shaped into the likeness of some sort of bird of prey. His face held all of the severity and discipline of an experienced fighter, which was only amplified by the thick stripe of tyrian war paint that stretched from one side of his face to the other, the line of paint thicker on the right side of his temple and then thinning out as it curved over his eyes and to the left side. Despite his otherwise fearsome appearance, his ice blue eyes had a kind and friendly light to them, and his stance held no signs of aggression. He had a rather thick mane of golden-blond hair, straight in texture and ending just above his shoulders. Strands of it had been braided in the traditional Nordic style, though it otherwise appeared somewhat disheveled.

 

The stranger seemed to notice that I was staring, and he chuckled, the sound deep and friendly, "I mean you no harm. Especially not after all the trouble I went to with killing those bandits and making sure you didn't keel over.”

 

My face flushed with embarrassment at this, and I responded somewhat awkwardly, “I - oh. Thank you for that. I would’ve more likely than not been killed horribly by those brutes if you hadn’t shown up.”

 

“It would hardly be an honorable thing to leave you at their ‘mercy’, and it certainly wouldn’t have been kind,” the man replied, seeming almost surprised that I’d thank him for such a thing. There was a brief pause, but then he spoke up again, seeming interested as he half-asked, half-stated, “I take it you’re new to the whole adventuring business? No offense, but you don’t have the look of a seasoned traveler to you, and your weapon of choice seems a bit… inadequate,” he gestured at the dull old iron blade which lay not too far away from where I’d woken up to further illustrate his point.

 

“None taken; I’ve never been outside of High Rock until recently. I’m quite new to this whole traveling thing.”

 

The corner of the man’s mouth twitched upwards at my response, and he replied, “It takes guts to travel to a foreign province alone, much less one as wild and dangerous as Skyrim. Though it’s somewhat foolish too, if you’re inexperienced and don’t know what you’re getting into.”

 

“I’ll admit that leaving home on my own was not one of my better ideas, but I didn’t really have much of a choice. I am not going to condemn myself to living out the rest of my life on some sleepy, small farmstead,” I shot back defensively, “Besides, I know where I’m headed. I’m not one of those sorts of people who just goes around looking for trouble.”

 

“Could’ve fooled me,” the stranger remarked, though it was clear he was jesting as he continued, “Still, it’s dangerous to travel alone, especially with as little fighting experience as you seem to have.”

 

“Are you inviting yourself along?” I asked the man somewhat incredulously, crossing my arms as I spoke.

 

“If you’d rather not have me along, I can respect that; I just thought you might appreciate having someone around who knows Skyrim well, considering I’ve been traversing her vast territory for far longer than you have.”

 

I was mollified somewhat by this, though I was still surprised by his offer to help a complete stranger, “But you don’t even know my name, much less where I’m headed-”

 

“Well, that can be remedied,” the stranger grinned, holding out his arm as if expecting a handshake as he announced, “Helgír the Wanderer, at your service.”

 

“I’m Helvia of the house of Abgrall, at yours as well,” I replied somewhat awkwardly, extending my right hand and shaking his, eliciting a confused look from him for a few moments before he suddenly chuckled - clearly, I’d not done what he’d expected me to, but at least he was nice enough not to take my clear lack of knowledge about Nordic customs as an insult.

 

Shaking his head slightly, Helgír assumed a more serious expression once again, “A pleasure to meet you, miss. Now, if you don’t mind me asking, just where is it you’re headed?”

 

Deciding that telling him couldn’t hurt, I replied, “Well, I was on my way to Markarth to restock my supplies - and still plan on going there - , but I eventually plan on going to Winterhold with the intention of applying to the College.”

 

“Oh, so you’re a mage? That explains your clothing choice,” my new acquaintance remarked amusedly, continuing with, “I’m headed to Markarth myself, actually. Conveniently enough, those bandits you ran into trouble with were ones I was given the task to exterminate by Jarl Igmund’s steward, and I believe I’m due a payment from the man. I’m not sure if I can go the entire way with you to Winterhold, but I can certainly escort you to the capital of The Reach, perhaps even to Whiterun.”

 

“Are you a mercenary, then? Killing things for a living, or something?”

 

Helgír flinched slightly at the word ‘mercenary’, and was quick to respond, “Hardly. My loyalty and my sword cannot be bought by just anyone who waves around a bag of coin. I only take jobs from others when I’m low on coin, and only when they concern eliminating criminals or slaying dangerous beasts-”

 

“So, you’re more of a bounty hunter.”

 

“I prefer the term ‘adventurer’, but I suppose that’s close enough,” Helgír shrugged, letting the subject drop, “But regarding my previous statement, it’s clear we both have the same destination at present. It would only make sense for us to stick together until we get there, at least.”

 

“I suppose I can live with that,” I replied jokingly, “If only because you have a horse.”

 

“Well, that settles it,” my new traveling companion announced, smiling slightly as he added,“Even if our partnership is based solely on the fact I own a horse.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, it's been awhile, hasn't it! I'm terribly sorry for the incredibly long pause in updating, especially considering this is only the second chapter in a 22 chapter and growing story. I really hope that this is enjoyable, though! I heavily edited the fight scene and the introduction of a character, and I'd love to hear feedback on what you think of them! I'll try and make the next update to this fic a lot faster than this one, but no promises. 
> 
> Thank you all for reading, and hope to see you next chapter!
> 
> \- AA


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